


Stay Up With Me

by fav_littleleaf



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Cuddling, Dragon Quest XI Act II Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik Personal Quest, Erik is my sweetheart forever, Fluff, Heavy on the hurt/comfort, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), I'm lonely ok, Lil' bit of kissing, M/M, Sleeping Together, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fav_littleleaf/pseuds/fav_littleleaf
Summary: “— so what matters right now is...you."Erik startled, not expecting that end to El's little speech. He shook his head and dropped his gaze. The wind blew incessantly around them, but the fire crackled on, stalwart in its mission to warm their souls. "I don't," he whispered.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	Stay Up With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic I've ever finished/published, pls be nice eeeee! DQ11 is my favorite video game of all time (next to BOTW) and the relationship between the Luminary and Erik just destroys me. I hope I did them justice. <3
> 
> Scene takes place right after Erik officially rejoins the party, the night before they face Gyldygga. Spoilers abound!!

The party slept in the Sniflheim inn that night; Jade had been grumbling all day about how long it had been since she'd showered (Booga preferred her… _natural_ ), and they had a big battle tomorrow. Eleven tried to pay for their stay with some of his casino winnings from Octagonia, but Sylvando elbowed him out of the way at the last minute. He insisted that Eleven and Erik share a room, even though they had plenty of money to room alone.

"Make sure he's alright, would you, darling?" he whispered, under the pretense of giving him a receipt to sign.

El nodded, his mind wandering. He doubted Erik would open up to him, given how flighty he had been all day. But he couldn't blame him at all. Losing his memories, gaining his memories, most of them bad, all in such a short period of time... not knowing whether his sister was going to be okay... it was enough to send anyone into a tailspin.

They went to the tavern that evening to celebrate Erik's return, but El couldn't focus properly, not even when Hendrik about punched someone for talking to Jade for longer than four seconds. He worried for Erik, who still seemed not quite himself, and only relented that Erik go back early when Rab loudly (and drunkenly) proclaimed that _he dinnae need his boyfriend to look after him 'vry second of the day_. He had turned bright red, and was grateful that Erik was already asleep when El finally tiptoed back into their room.

El slept fitfully, as he always did the night before an important battle, and this one felt more personal than usual. When he woke for the umpteenth time, the night was deep and silent. He groaned. Goddess, it was going to be a long day tomorrow. Maybe they would let him sneak in a nap if they were successful against Gyldygga. He turned over to check on Erik in the bed next to his.

But where his sleeping form should have been, there was only a pile of blankets, haphazardly tossed aside. The moonlight shone on them, bringing a cold chill where Erik had left the window ajar (curse his Snifleheimian upbringing).

"Erik?" 

His breath caught in his throat and gave way to panic when no one answered. 

"Erik!"

He scrambled out of bed, wracking his brain to think where his partner might have gone. Surely not to find Mia himself? Or to pick a fight with the gold-Vikings? The infinite amount of possibilities made his head spin. He wrenched the door to their room open, wondering if he should wake the rest of the party. 

_No, he'll be fine... he's never gone far when he's disappeared._

He agreed with himself, and shoved away the small voice that whispered that he didn't want to wake them because he wanted Erik to himself. So what if that were true? So what if he missed his old companion, missed his sullen indifference that secretly hid the biggest heart he had ever known? Everyone else was just going to have to deal with it.

The inn's entrance gave no clues to his whereabouts, and neither did the immediate area outside. He called out Erik's name, repeating to himself that he could not be far, that he would go and wake the others if he called his name ten times with no answer.

After nine heart-wrenching calls, tramping through deep snow, a campfire across from the church doors caught his eye. A dark form was curled up in front of the fire, sitting with its back to a crate. The steely flash of blue highlighted by the flames told Eleven all he needed to know.

"Erik! What in Yggdrasil— you scared the heck out of me— "

Erik didn't acknowledge Eleven's presence. He stared into the fire, arms crossed tightly over his chest, motionless. 

"Come inside,” El said. The words came out sharper than he wanted them to. "You're going to get hypothermia."

The response was swift this time. "Don't worry about me, El."

El knelt to the ground in front of Erik, as near as he felt he could without scaring him. Even near the fire, the cold pressed uncomfortably around him. He hadn’t thought to shrug on a jacket. Relief that Erik was safe started to calm him, but he still fought a twang of anxiety that he had been out here, all alone, in the dark.

"My job is to worry about you," he said, keeping his voice even.

"Your job is to save the world," Erik snapped.

"Don't give me that."

"I'll give you exactly what you've got coming, Mr. Luminary— "

"We're not even close to ready to take on Mordegon. We haven't even found all our friends yet. And besides, it’s past midnight, if you haven’t noticed— "

“Evil doesn’t wait for you to get up in the morning,” he muttered.

“— so what matters right now is... _you_." 

Erik startled, not expecting that end to El's little speech. He shook his head and dropped his gaze. The wind blew incessantly around them, but the fire crackled on, stalwart in its mission to warm their souls. "I don't," he whispered.

El softened. He didn't know what to say. How could he express how much comfort his devoted traveler had brought him over these months? How much he had missed Erik, every single night after the fall of Yggdrasil, when there was no one to whisper to when sleep evaded them?

Erik spoke, oblivious to these thoughts. "Mia's still out there. How can I sleep in a warm, comfy bed, knowing she's still frozen out there?"

"We'll find her," El said fiercely. “You need rest to save her.”

"She's probably dead." He dipped his head into his arms, and El could barely hear what he said next. "I should have died too."

"Don't talk like that."

"It's just like the Vikings used to say— "

He didn't want to hear what the Vikings used to say to him.

"Please, Erik. Will you look at me?"

Erik lifted his face out of his arms. His eyes were so royally blue, shimmering in the light from the campfire. Somehow the tears made them more beautiful. It was a shame that the Drasilian royal coats were green and purple, because he would look _so good_ in a darker shade of blue— 

_No, that wasn’t a road to go down._

"I know it might not feel like it, but I need you." He willed Erik to understand how desperately true it was, how he had just been thinking about keeping Erik by his side forever, for Yggdrasil’s sake— "We all need you."

The tears spilled over now in earnest. Eleven reached for him, arms going around his back, one hand reaching to cradle the back of his neck. His skin was freezing to the touch, in deep contrast to the warmth of the tears from his face pressed against the crook of Eleven's neck. 

"Shh, you're okay," El murmured. "It’s going to be okay. I promise."

Instead of quieting his tears, the words seemed to make them come harder. "It's all my fault, El. It's not just Mia anymore, it's this whole city— "

El had never seen Erik so distraught before. He was always the one urging everyone to keep moving, to press on despite pain. In fact, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Erik cry. His heart twisted with the realization. 

"It's not your fault,” El whispered against Erik's hair. It was soft against his mouth, snow-speckled, but smelled of crackling firewood. “You were just taking care of her the best way you knew how. Mistakes happen to everyone."

Erik nodded, but the tears kept on flowing out of him. El let it wash over him like the tide, taking them to someplace far away, where the weight of their failures didn't crush so many lives to dust.

"We'll fix it,” he said, as much to himself as to Erik. "We'll make everything right again."

He held Erik until his crying subsided into intermittent sniffles. He felt exhausted from the strength of Erik's anguish and the lateness of the hour, and the cold was starting to bite into his soul despite the fire.

"I'm going to take you inside, okay?"

He gave the barest nod of assent, and Eleven maneuvered him up into his arms. Erik was heavy with grief, but surprisingly pliant in Eleven's embrace. Had he ever been held this way? The thought that he might not have been drove the bitter cold deeper in Eleven's heart. He shuffled them both onwards back to the inn, resolving to do whatever he could to take care of him.

**♫**

After what felt like hours of concerted effort and far too many stairs, Eleven shouldered the door to their room open. They were both shivering and damp with snow, so he set about getting them dry bedclothes, ignoring Erik's muttered protests and his own aching muscles. He set a small fire spell to dry their clothing, and dragged a brush through his scraggly hair as he hopped, one pant-legged, to find a shirt.

Finally dry and changed, Eleven came around to join Erik in bed. Erik was curled up on his side, facing El as he lifted the blankets to crawl in beside him, leaving some space between them so he wouldn’t overwhelm Erik. His skin prickled; they had not shared this space in a long, long time.

Moonlight filtered in beautiful colors from the stained glass window. A bit of green slanted across his stubbornly spiky hair, and a splash of yellow highlighted his eyes, wide and alert and tinged with puffy redness. The room was still chilly from the open window, but the blankets and pillows and Erik’s warmth beside him made a sweet, warm haven. His eyelids began to droop against his will.

Erik, though, was having none of it. He regarded El, his expression inscrutable. "Stay up with me?"

As if he could ever deny Erik anything. 

Before he could stop himself, he lifted his fingers to Erik's cheek and drank in the sight of him— Erik, wholly Erik, for the first time since the fall of Yggdrasil. The context wasn't ideal, but being near him like this felt familiar and safe. It was just like old times, times he had desperately ached for in the past month without Erik. Even when they’d found him on the ship, that wasn’t him, not really. Not when the best he could hope for was the accidental shoulder brush when they passed each other to get scrambled eggs, or his feebly-spoken worry about whether hanging around monster-Jade was really as safe as everyone seemed to think.

Erik flushed under his searching gaze. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he whispered, his voice betraying him with its breathiness. He let his hand fall away and took hold of his forearm instead, a suitably neutral space between them. (As neutral as might be expected for the two of them).

Erik closed his eyes. He was very still except for the soft rise and fall of his chest, and El thought he might have fallen asleep until he spoke. "You... really think what happened isn’t my fault?"

"Of course not. You were just a kid. It's really Mordegon who's at fault— and you're _nothing like him_."

As obvious as it was, he wasn't sure Erik believed it. El would say it until his last breath if it meant he would believe it.

Erik must have understood what he didn't say, because he gave El such a tender look that he thought he might melt. There was a flutter on his hand, and he realized that Erik had taken it into his own, tracing his wrist and palm with his fingers, soft and slow. 

El closed his eyes at the touch. The months of imagining this moment paled in comparison to the real thing. He let everything he worried about swim away from him, and found they went easily, as if they had been called away by the late Yggdrasil herself. In their place there was only forgiveness. Only silence.

He realized he had been basking in it so long that Erik’s breaths had evened out, and his fingers merely rested upon El’s.

"I've missed you," El whispered, expecting him to have already faded. The pressure against his own eyes was mounting, but his need to take in the boy in front of him surpassed it. 

Erik's eyes fluttered open. "I didn't remember much 'til today, but I would have missed you too." He grinned. "Probably."

Eleven elbowed him, meaning to hit somewhere fleshy, but instead made contact with a frighteningly hard bit of bone. Erik gave a yelp-giggle, and his arm shot out in defense, only to collide with El's cheek.

"Ow, watch it!"

"You watch it!

"All I did was elbow you, you're the one attacking my face— "

They wrestled each other, all arms and legs, giggling as if Yggdrasil had not fallen, as if Mia were not trapped in a golden prison, as if both of their heads were not fit to burst with the grief of living.

Then Erik gave him a particularly well-landed kick and Eleven found himself on the floor.

"Oh, no, El— are you alright?" Erik's face appeared over the edge of the bed, bright and breathless.

Eleven groaned dramatically, putting an arm over his head. He did sport a painful twinge in his knee, not to mention his back from carrying Erik so far, but those were small prices to pay for the joy of having him truly _back_.

Erik took a hard look at him, and his eyes softened when he saw El was unhurt. "Drama queen," he huffed.

El stuck out his tongue. "Drama _king._ Speaking of, the drama king needs his sleep. It's almost dawn."

"Is not!"

"For real, you know it's gonna suck tomorrow."

"We can sleep in. There's no law that says we have to see Gyldygga at the crack of dawn."

Eleven grinned. "If only Veronica were here, I'd like to see you tell that to her face."

"She can yell all she wants, I'd tell her to kiss my ass."

El giggled, and he missed seeing Veronica and Erik together with an acute pang. But there would be time enough to reunite later. He knew that if anyone had made it through, it would be Veronica.

Comforted by the thought, and by Erik's watchful eyes on him, he got to his knees to stand. "Listen, I'm gonna sleep on that bed since they're so small, but I'll be right next to— "

"Don't," Erik whispered, taking hold of El's wrist. "Please."

A retort formed at the edge of his lips — something like _I swear, if we die tomorrow because you wouldn't let me sleep_ — but the look on Erik's face made the thoughts vanish. There was an affection there, one that he would deny if confronted about, and a little crease between his eyebrows that betrayed the fear that El would leave him, just as everyone in Erik’s life had.

But there was the smallest hint of shyness in the way his eyes sparkled in the colorful light from the window, and El knew he was being asked — commanded, really — in that way Erik had of not actually asking for anything at all— to lie back down in bed, and to hold him until the sun rose.

He settled back down next to Erik, face to face, in awe of an expression that could say so many things at once. They were closer than they had ever been on purpose (waking up curled in each other's arms didn't count). He could count the number of eyelashes on Erik's eyelids, count how many strands of hair fell across his eyes. Words came and went, and he grasped at none of them, until finally he was left with only one.

"Erik," he whispered.

The corner of his lips turned upward. "I like how it feels when you say my name."

"How does it feel?"

"Like... soft. Like nothing else matters."

El raised his fingers, slowly, to trace against Erik's bottom lip. They parted for him easily, inevitably. He felt heady and breathless, like someone had picked him up and placed him down at high altitude in the mountains.

"How does it feel when I say yours?"

His name had barely left Erik's lips before he answered: it felt like flying down the mountain at top speed, exhilarating and terrifying all at once, but also like sitting by the fire afterwards, warm and soft and _delicious_ and like he could say his name until the end of Time and he would never tire of it. He tried to say all of these things without words, and he thought Erik might have gotten it in the way his mouth parted under his, the way his hands twisted in his hair and held onto his jaw, the way he made the smallest sound of pleasure and _fuck_ , there was his name again, rough and husky— 

Erik drew back, his breaths heavy in the space between them. "Is this okay?"

"'s incredible," Eleven said, and immediately hated it— incredible was too pale a word, too feeble, to possibly describe it. 

But Erik smiled against his lips, as if he was happy with that answer. He snaked an arm around El's hip and pulled him flush against his body, nestling his face just above his collarbone, his hand splayed across his back. "I want to kiss you all night," he murmured, breath hot against El's neck.

El shivered against him, the exhaustion in his body heavy yet warring with his desire to stay up, to make this night last forever.

“I know we shouldn’t,” Erik continued, answering his thoughts. “But that’s almost not a good enough reason…”

“Tomorrow?” he whispered, curling his own arms around Erik and pulling him even closer.

“Tomorrow,” Erik echoed, and that would be his prize, that would be his final rest before they ventured to Arboria to learn their fate. Nothing could hurt them when they were side by side.

Nestled in Erik's arms and protected against the cold, dark night, El finally let sleep claim him.


End file.
